Saved
by Laura Schiller
Summary: In the aftermath of the Plague, Em learns that even her guardian angel is only human.


Saved

By Laura Schiller

Based on the Matched Trilogy

Copyright: Ally Condie

I open my eyes to a blur of white, blue and gold.

_Is this Heaven?_ I wonder. The life after death that societies before ours used to dream about, the place of rest where all our troubles would be over? I'm so tired, my bones feel like lead sinking into the mattress. If this is Heaven, why am I so tired?

I narrow my eyes, and the blur clears: white walls. Blue eyes. Golden hair. A pale, worried face bending over mine.

I know that face. He's the best angel I could ask for.

"Xander."

"Em." He smiles and brushes my hair back from my face. "You made it."

There are shadows in his eyes, and despite his joy and relief as he looks at me, I can see that he's been suffering, as we all have. I want to raise my hand and smooth the lines from his face, the way Cassia would, but I'm no strong enough – in more than one sense of the word.

"Where am I?" I ask instead.

All I can see is that I'm in a quarantine cell at some sort of medical center, in a room with dozens of other patients. It's unnerving to see them lying still, so I look up at the ceiling instead. Someone has taped up a copy of one of the Hundred Paintings: the one of the green bridge spanning a pond that blooms with lilies. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost feel the breeze and smell the water.

"You're in Central," Xander says.

"Central?"

How did I get there? The last place I rememer is –

I squeeze my eyes shut to block the memories of Mapletree Borough, but they come anyway. The endless, hungry waiting as my parents and I stayed home per the Pilot's orders, rationing our food, watching over the port as our entire Society fell apart in plague and riots. My father daring to come out for the Rising's food distribution, only to come home bruised and empty-handed - and, it turned out, carrying the mutated Plague.

I saw them both go down. First my father, then my mother. I washed them, fed them, turned them in their beds, waiting and waiting for the medics to come. I was so drained, I must have fallen ill without knowing it. I don't remember them taking us away.

"It's all right," Xander says softly, wiping away tears I didn't even realize were there. "You're safe. Ky Markham found you, can you believe it? He's been piloting rescue teams for the Rising. He brought you here on an airship."

"My parents?"

From the dying of the light in Xander's eyes, I know what he's about to say before he says it.

"They were too far gone, Em. I'm sorry."

This time, he lets me cry. I think of my mother, who believed until the end that the Society would come back to power and save us all; of my father, who risked his own safety to bring back food for us, only to be pushed aside by those more ruthless and desperate than he was. I think of the square of lavender silk that represents their Match, no doubt destroyed or stolen by the looters. I think of their hot, damp hands in mine as they made me promise to stay safe.

None of us has ever even tried to take a risk, I see that now. I was so overprotected, even being Matched made me break out in panic attacks. We tried so very hard to do everything properly, to be good, to be safe. And look where it's gotten us!

Xander takes one of my hands in both of his, careful not to disturb the IV line. Only a year ago, I would have been so happy to have him touch me this way. I would have honestly believed that he could save me, just like the day he gave me his green tablet when I broke down in the music hall. I thought then that as long as I was with him, everything would be all right.

I know better now. He couldn't save my parents; he couldn't keep my world from falling apart. From now on, I will just have to learn to save myself.

"You'd better go," I tell him. "You have other patients waiting."

"Oh. Right." He glances down at his black Rising uniform, as if he'd forgotten he was wearing it, and gives my hand a final pat to say goodbye. "Take care, then."

"You too. And Xander?"

He stands up, turns to go, pauses. "Yes?"

_I'm sorry, Mother, _I whisper in my thoughts. _I'm sorry, Father. But I've had enough of playing it safe._

"I loved you once," I say, loudly and clearly, looking right up into his sky-blue eyes.

"I know."

He smiles at me, a smile I've never seen before: not proud or confident, the way he always looked at the game center, or warm and loving, the way he looked at Cassia, or even the friendly smile he used to wear for me. It's a sad smile, bittersweet, and I know that like me, he is thinking of what might have been.

"If you find Cassia, tell her to contact me if she can."

_Tell her I would never come between you, even if I could. Tell her she's still my friend, and I still miss her. _

He nods, knowing what I didn't say as well as what I did.

"She'll be with you soon," he assures me, and moves on to the next patient.

I watch him work, moving with methodical attention from one sick person to the next. His hands are gentle as they refill fluid bags, clean sores, change sheets, inject cures. I used to think being close to him was all I needed, but now I wonder if perhaps I was seeing from the wrong perspective. Maybe what I really need is to become like him. Maybe, once I'm healed, it will be my turn to heal others.

It's a whole new world now, after all.


End file.
